Dark Lord of the Dovah
by Fanofallthethings
Summary: A Sith Lord from the Old Republic is transferred to Skyrim, sharing a cart with the Dovahkiin. Then he does what Sith do.a
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One - Out of Helgen**

"So, you're finally awake." The voice came from somewhere in front of me, though I couldn't see who had spoken. My vision was clouded, dark and light blurring together. Seemed about right, as my last memory was of my head slamming against a bulkhead after being thrown through a window my the Jedi's Grandmaster, Satele Shan. Though it must be said, the rest of my senses were providing feedback that confused me. The smell of manure and beastflesh flooded my nostrils, and the creaking in my ears and rocking all reminded me of the primitive animal-driven vehicles of a race I and several other Sith had subjugated and destroyed several years ago. My vision finally cleared, and I realized my impression was correct. I was in a wagon, drawn by some kind of furred quadruped. The driver wore armor of some kind of animal skin, and the man across from me, I assumed the one who had spoken, wore metal chainmail under his cloak.

I tried to speak, but only a croak came out. It seemed my ability to speak had yet to return, as well as my Force faculties as nothing happened when I tried to reach out and touch the minds of the four others in the cart with me. The man across from me, a human, continued to speak, with occasional interjections from the man next to him. It seemed the first man was something called a Stormcloak, and the men holding us were something called Imperials. I felt a brief flutter of hope for a moment, thinking I may have stumbled upon loyal servants of the Sith Empire, but that was dashed on realizing that these Imperials were merely some local primitives. It seemed that other than the Stormcloak, the man next to him was a 'horse thief', (I assumed the beast pulling the cart and that the tail guard rode were these 'horses'), and the man next to me was Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the first man's organization. So Stormcloak was a group, not a race, and it seemed these men's race was that of the Nords. I remembered old records from a backwards outworld conquered long ago I had perused long ago out of boredom that mentioned a race called Norsemen, fierce warriors and berserkers in olden times. Based on their armor and the need the Imperials felt to keep their leader gagged, I assumed these Nords were similar. There was one other in the group, though like me he spoke not. He appeared to be some kind of alien race I did not recognize. He was humanoid, but with skin black as coal, pointed ears, and ember-red eyes. His hands were bound like the rest of us, and he wore rags like I and the thief did. I wondered why the Stormcloaks had been allowed to keep their armor while we had not, but it mattered not.

Finally, we arrived at a town, the Stormcloak still going on and on. I had little patience for his yammering, so I tuned him out, instead focusing on the pitiful stone walls and towers of this 'Helgen'. The cart finally rolled to a stop in the square, and we disembarked, lining up before two of the Imperial fools who dared take a Dark Lord of the Sith captive. I vowed they would all perish as soon as my faculties returned. Finally, I was ordered to approach this Imperial Captain and her scribe. My voice had still yet to return, though I felt the stirrings of power in the back of my mind. The power felt… strange, different than the Force usually did. The scribe spoke. "Who… are you?"

Instantly, knowledge flung itself into my mind. I was not on some other world, stranded by the Jedi attack on my vessel. I had somehow been cast into another world, one without the Force, though other powers existed and would apply themselves into the void left by my Force mastery. My weapons and armor had been lost, but it mattered little. I was Sith, and I had no need of such petty things to dominate this pitiful world.

The scribe was still speaking. "You're a long way from High Rock, Breton. Too bad. We'll see that your remains are returned to your birthplace." Yes, that was right. In this new world I was a Breton in my thirty fourth year, from a place called High Rock. There was no Force here, but I was a mage. If I could just reach my powers, these insignificant worms would fall before me. But for the moment, my abilities remained outside my grasp. If these fools thought they could bind and kill me, they would soon find otherwise. The stirrings of power I had felt continued to grow, and would soon manifest. The fools were still talking, and the captain ordered me to the block. I marked her in my mind. She would die first, and painfully. I shuffled to the crowd of Stormcloaks around the block, and watched the first lose his head to the headsman's axe. He died well. Perhaps I should use these Stormcloaks, use them to bring hell to the Empire that thought to destroy me. An interesting thought for later. They decided I would die next. I marched forward, feeling the anger and hate building up in me. This would be close, though I was sure my power would return in time to save me. It always had. A great cry went out from the distance, almost reminiscent of a starfighter's engine. I held no hope for that. This was another universe, another existence. I could rely on no help but what I created for myself.

As the executioner raised the axe, another cry split the air and a great beast landed on one of the stone towers behind the headsman, and a blast of power knocked the hooded man back. I stumbled, then regained my balance and followed Ulfric into the other tower. He stopped on the ground level, but I hurried up the stairs. At the second landing, something warned me to jerk back seconds before the beast slammed its head through the wall and spat fire, roasting another of the Stormcloaks alive. As soon as it left, I hurled myself through the hole, landing in the upper story of a house nearby and thanking the Nine Divines (where had that come from?) the my precognitive powers had returned in the form of the spell Clairvoyance, which I found I could maintain without draining any magicka for a short time (magicka? This world may be more trouble than it was worth). I landed lightly, while I no longer had Force-assisted strength and agility, I still had peak physical fitness and two decades of combat experience, though now that I had lost twenty years in the universe switch I was in better shape than I had been in years.

I dashed through the rest of the town dodging the beast, which I heard some call a dragon, twice more, following Stormcloaks and Imperials alike to find safety. Something told me I wouldn't be able to slay this dragon even with my full abilities, not as things stood currently. Finally, I reached a stout stone building, Helgen Keep based on what the Imperial and the Stormcloak from my cart said while shouting at each other. The dark one from the cart stood with the Imperial, and followed him inside. I followed the Stormcloak, whose name I learned from the shouting was Ralof.

Once inside, Ralof produced a dagger he must have taken from a corpse and cut my hands free. The instant the rope fell, my magic came to me. An impressive list of spells, ideally suited for a Sith Lord. He gestured to a fallen Stormcloak, crumpled against the wall of circular chamber, next to a table and chair still bearing a lit candle and the remains of a meal. "You can take his gear, he won't be needing it anymore," Ralof said.

A small smile flitted across my face. I liked the pragmatism this Nord showed. I did as he suggested, securing the armor but leaving the axe the dead man had carried. My spells would do nicely in its place. Ralof noticed, but chose not to comment. Moments after I strapped on the armor, noise came from the other side of one the gates in opposite walls of the chamber, ninety degrees along the wall from the door we had come through. Ralof dropped into a crouch, pressing against one of the walls next to the door. "Get down!" he whisper-yelled, but I ignored him, summoning spell energy into my hands.

"Sith do not cower before weaklings like these," I growled, a feral grin spreading across my face. It grew wider when I saw the Imperial Captain who ordered my death on the other side of the door.

She put a key in the lock, swinging the door wide even as she saw me and the spells in my hands. She shouted a warning to her companion, drawing her sword as she did. Not fast enough. I cast a spell of Mass Paralysis from my left hand, freezing the two soldiers in place. Then I cast the spell in my right, Bound Sword. A poor substitute for a lightsaber, but better than the poor metals these primitives relied on. I strode forward, lashing out with my spectral blade as I came. The soldier crumpled to the floor, head and body hitting separately, and leaving only the captain. My smile undiminished, I spoke my first words in this new world.

"Well, Captain. How quickly things change. I swore to myself I would kill you first. That went out the window when the dragon attacked. Luckily for you, I also swore to kill you slowly, but with a dragon outside I can't afford to dawdle, so…" Here I switched my off hand spell from Mass Paralysis to Hysteria. "If you survive this, you should be quite mad." My grin covered my entire face as I cast the spell at point blank range. Unable to run, the spell quickly overwhelmed the captain's mind, and within moments she was a gibbering wreck. Apparently she was weaker than I gave her credit for, as her heart gave out in moments and she collapsed to the floor, the paralysis spell having no bearing on a corpse. I took a moment, taking her steel greaves, boots, and gauntlets. I disliked heavy torso armor, but the greaves were attached to the boots and were a vast improvement over the slippers I had been wearing, and I liked to protect my hands and arms as they were necessary for combat and it didn't look like I'd be able to get prosthetics in this new world.

I turned back to Ralof, and saw his eyes shining with a mixture of fear, repulsion… and _respect_. Yes, I might be able to grow to like these Nords, especially if they would serve me, knowingly or not. He swallowed and the glint in his eyes disappeared, replaced with a level stare. This man had seen death and war before, and it would take more that little display to truly faze him. "Come on," he said, "we had best be going before that dragon decides to crack this place open like an egg."

We delved deeper into the keep, coming across three Imperial soldiers in a storeroom we were forced to divert into after the hallway we followed collapsed. I fired a burst of Chain Lightning from my left, and the three dropped like puppets with their strings cut, their weapons not even yet drawn. Next we reached a torture room, familiar territory for me, where a pair of Stormcloaks fought against an Imperial spellsword and a warrior, while the body of a third Stormcloak lay still on the ground, hideously burned from the lightning cast by the spellsword. Choosing to discriminate my targets as not to upset my new ally, I cast Bound Sword once again, ramming the false blade through the warrior's back while he was occupied with one of the Stormcloaks, and slashing it first across the spellsword's eyes and then his throat. The two left standing joined our little group, and while they talked with Ralof I perused the room. A glance into the cells showed a corpse where robes with a strange glow to them, and some sixth (or in my case seventh or eight) sense told me that wearing them would increase my magicka regeneration, the price of casting spells in this world.

So I reached out with Telekinesis and ripped the door off its hinges, sweeping inside and beginning to strip the corpse of the robes and the hood, which I sensed would increase my available magicka pool. Somehow. The inborn knowledge I carried of my spells told me that Telekinesis would be useless against organics, but it was bloody useful against inanimate objects. Whether it would work on constructs (if they existed in this world), would have to be discovered at a later date.

After a few minutes of shuffling clothes and armor, I had managed to detach the Stormcloak chainmail from the tunic, wore it under the mage robes I had picked up, the ragged tunic I had worn initially serving as a barrier between my skin and the armor. The hood covered my head and shadowed my face, and I felt more comfortable with the looser robes and the hood. It was similar to how had I had dressed in my previous life, though I would prefer darker colors to the blue and cream of the robes and hood. Ah, well. Can't have everything.

Now dressed, Ralof, myself, and our two new companions moved on. Soon enough, we heard voices up ahead, and I gestured for the other three to stay behind. I had another spell I wanted to try out. I moved out into the chamber, a series of platforms over running water, linked by rope and wood bridges, staying low and slow until I reached where a group of Imperials stood, talking about their plans. I looked around and saw that all the Imperials in the room were together, then cast a Mayhem spell. The effect was instantaneous, weapons were drawn and the Imperials hacked each other to bits. Only one survived, and quick blast of lightning felled him.

I returned to the others and we moved on, the Stormcloaks looking in awe at the fallen Imperials. These Nords seemed to have a dislike for magic, but they certainly respected the results. We kept moving through a spider cavern (more lightning), and into a chamber with a bear. I used an Invisibility spell to sneak up on it, then stabbed my bound sword through its eye socket. We finally exited the caves, just in time for the dragon that had just savaged and entire town to sweep over us. We all instinctively crouched, and Ralof dove for cover behind a nearby boulder, not that it would help from an airborne, fire-breathing, death machine. I alone stood tall, watching the dragon sweep over my head and off into the distance. Perhaps I could find a way to bend the dragon to my will, make an ally of it, something of that kind. It would certainly make conquest easier.

Once the dragon was clear, the three Stormcloaks gathered together, whispering for a moment in a clump. Then the two whose names I had never learned split off, taking off at a jog to the north, based on the sun's position. I was a Sith Lord, that didn't mean I didn't have basic survival skills. In any case, after they dashed off Ralof turned towards me. "My aunt Gerdur runs the mill in Riverwood just north of here. She'll be willing to help us," he said.

I raised my eyebrow at his use of 'us', but if I wanted to ally with the Stormcloaks it would probably pay to work with the only one I knew. "Very well. To the north? I will meet you there. I have… business to take care of," I said. After exiting the caves, I had suddenly developed a sense of nearby places, places I wanted to look into. Some kind of mine, some kind of watchtower, and standing stones I could sense an odd kind of power from. Best I could figure, Clairvoyance gave me some kind of awareness of the surrounding area's main features. I had some stops to make before I met Ralof in Riverwood.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I definitely didn't forget to put this on the last chapter. Heh. Anyways, just wanted to note that I'll be taking some liberties with how magic works as it relates to the Sith. Since he's a Sith Lord, he's a pretty high level character. Let me know in the comments if you want me to post his spell list. Hope you enjoy, so like and review!**

**P.S. Mods galore. I don't have a list, but if y'all want to know I can make one.**

**Chapter Two - Helgen to Riverwood**

Ralof took off down the path, presumably heading for Riverwood. My new skillset had informed me there were places of significance in the area, and since I was new to this world I deemed it a good idea to check them out. I followed Ralof down the path, quickly passing and outdistancing him. Interesting, as I didn't appear to be in any better shape than he did and I no longer had the Force to assist my physical endeavors. In any case, I quickly made my way from the path to a cobblestone road. At the base of the hill, the road began to run parallel to a river, and a tower stood, along with a group of well-armed, well-armored men. Now that I was here, my Clairvoyance informed me the name of the tower was the Lake Illinalta Watchtower, and that the guards were Falkreath Guardsmen. I presumed Falkreath was a city or region within this strange new world. I need to get my hands on a map and figure out the damned geography of this place.

In any case, from the Watchtower I made my way a little further along the road and discovered the Guardian Stones, three standing stones with blessings for mages, warriors, and thieves. I had always considered myself a warrior among the Sith, but it seemed more appropriate now to take the blessing of the Mage Stone. As soon as I engaged with it, I felt a wash of power come over me. I rolled my shoulders, adjusting to the strange energy, then turned and made my way towards the last destination I had been made aware of, a mine. I turned back to the road, following a fork that went back into the hills I had come from instead of continuing down the river in the direction Ralof had indicated Riverwood lay in. I quickly came upon Embershard Mine, and the single bandit standing guard outside. A quick summoning and subsequent slash of my Bound Sword, and the way to the apparently bandit-infested mine was clear. I slipped through the door, proceeding down the tunnel I found myself in.

A few steps in, my foot snagged on something, triggering a rockfall I barely managed to sweep aside with Telekinesis. Surprisingly, no one came running at the commotion, which led me to draw two conclusions: first, the bandits were stupid. Or deaf. And second, the bandits, going by the amateurish trap and weak guard, posed no significant threat to me. I charged down the hall, summoning my sword and calling my Chain Lightning spell to my offhand. I burst out into a chamber with a bridge over water and small ramp leading to a bank on the pond, where two bandits stood at a campfire. A burst of lightning slew them where they stood, and after a quick look it was obvious that the way deeper into the mine didn't lay that way.

On the other side of the bridge was another tunnel, leading to a dead end with a pair of tunnels leading off of it. To the left the tunnel sloped downward to a corpse, which I ignored, and to the right upwards to another area. A lever was immediately evident, which I threw, lowering another bridge to access the rest of the mine. I vaulted the rail, landing on the new bridge just as another pair of bandits charged out of the newly accessible tunnel. I decided to have a little fun with these two, meeting the first's sword swipe with my ghost blade, and ducking a swing from the second's warhammer. My sword flicked up, cutting the head off of the warhammer, even as my other hand called a rock into the back of his head with Telekinesis. He stumbled forward, off balance, and I turned my attention to the swordsman who was coming around again. A simple blade, and a shield in his other hand. I swung overhand, dismissing my blade and then resummoning it once it was past his upraised shield. The blow cleaved him from shoulder to hip, laying bare the bone. I turned back to warhammer, who was charging at me barehanded, destroyed hammer discarded. A blast of lightning sent him flying back down the tunnel I had entered the mine through, smacking into the wall and settling with his neck at an unnatural angle.

"That was entertaining," I muttered. Then progressed down the tunnel they had come out of. Another bandit guarded their treasure room, easily dispatched. There was nothing worthwhile in the treasure room in any case. Finally, I entered a large cavern. One bandit stood below, working at a forge. Another sat at a table by the first of two rope bridges across a chasm stretching out in front of me, and another on the second bridge with a bow. I leaped upon the first, burying my sword in him from a reverse grip, the point entering through the space between his neck and collarbone and stabbing deep. He crumpled soundlessly as I walked back up the ramp from the forge to where I had started. The passage to the other two lay along the left side of the chamber, and I cast Invisibility. I crept up the path. I say crept, but it was more like strode invisibly. In any case, I moved up the path, coming upon the first, seated bandit. A sword blow to the throat silenced him forever. Then I used Telekinesis to pick up a dagger laying on the table, levitated it for a moment, and sent it hurtling towards the archer. The dagger hit him in the eye, and he crumpled. A quick look-round to make sure that was all of them, and then I crossed the second bridge and left the mine through the back entrance.

I blinked a couple times coming into the daylight, blinded by the sun after walking through the dark cave. As soon as my eyes cleared, I was doubled over by a powerful dark aura emanating from nearby. My Clairvoyance indicated some kind of cabin nearby, and that seemed to be where the aura came from. A hop, skip, and a jump across the river and I was there. A small cabin with a garden outside, an old woman tended both. Some of the aura came from her, but the majority seemed to come from below the house, a cellar or something of the kind. "You," I said. "You live here?"

The crone looked up at me, squinting through old eyes. "Aye," she said. "I am Anise, and this is my cabin. Who might you be?"

"I am Bellarum, Dark Lord of the Sith," I said. Anyone this steeped in darkness may know of something that could help me, whether they knew it or not. "What are you, that knows of the darkness that permeates your house and person?"

I was expecting denial, perhaps even threats. I was unprepared for her to leap at me with inhuman agility, a dagger appearing in one hand and frost swirling in the other. If I had been anyone else, I would have died where I stood. But I was not anyone else. I was Darth Bellarum, Warlord, Destroyer of Tineran, and Admiral of the Sith Fleet. She was met midleap by the blast of lightning I summoned up, tossed backwards into the wall. She was still alive, so I closed, my sword appearing in my hand as lightning leaked from the other. I batted aside an ineffectual thrust of her dagger, sending it flying away. I knelt on her chest, my knee pressed against her ribcage and my sword at her throat. "Now," I said, smiling coldly down on her, "why don't you tell me what you _really_ are."

She glared up at me for a moment, then subsided after a quick taste of lightning dribbled from my hand. "I'm a witch," she growled. "I was exiled from my coven, and have been trying to lure others to start a new one. And I will kill you for humiliating me like this, _Sith_." She spat the last word.

"Do you know what the Sith are?" I asked.

"Dead, after I get through with you," she snarled. She knew nothing.

"You know what?" I asked. "I believe you will try to kill me. So." Here I shoved my sword through her throat, severing her spine at the base of her skull. I stood up, stepped back, and struck the body with lightning until it disintegrated into dust. The breeze would get rid of the evidence soon enough.

Inside the cottage I found a locked trapdoor. A moments application of Telekinesis to the lock and it clicked open, allowing me underneath. There was some kind of primitive chemistry station, carved with runes that emanated power, as well as another table carved with different runes. Something in my head whispered that the chemistry station was for this world's version of alchemy, while the other table was for enchanting items. A glance around revealed no single source of the darkness I felt, so it seemed that simply use for the witch's dark rituals had corrupted the space over time.

My examination complete, I left the building, making my way towards Riverwood. After an hour or so hike, I arrived at the small town. Even less impressive than Helgen had been, there was a small wall around the town, but that was the extent of the defenses. To my right seemed to be the houses, as well as buildings with signs indicating an inn and a general store. To my left was a smithy, and beyond that a lumber mill. I made my way towards the mill, spotting Ralof over by a felled tree, along with a woman I presumed to be Gerdur and a man.

When I walked up, they instantly clammed up before Ralof recognized me and indicated that it was alright to keep talking. The conversation resumed, and after a moment Ralof turned to me with a grim look on his face. "We weren't the first to make it to town," he said. "Hadvar, one of the Imperials from Helgen," he added at my blank look, "made it back before us, along with the dark elf who shared our cart." So that's what the odd humanoid was, a dark elf. What that meant, I didn't know. "Hadvar left for Solitude almost immediately, and the dark elf made his way up to Bleak Falls Barrow, and old Nord burial tomb on the mountain over there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder at a snow-capped mountain not far away.

"We need someone to go to Whiterun and warn the Jarl about the dragon and to ask for more guards," Gerdur said. "We don't have anything to pay you with, but we'd be grateful if you did." Ralof nodded behind her.

"Very well," I said. "But first I'm going to check out that Barrow. I find myself quite curious who else could have survived Helgen."

"Fair enough, friend," Ralof said. "Though, I never did catch your name."

I waffled for a moment on telling him, then decided to tell him, just ease back on the titles. "My name is Darth Bellarum. Darth is a title among my people, but it takes the place of a given name," I said. Couldn't have these primitives calling me by name after all.

"Thank you, Darth. Talos guide you."

I nodded and took my leave, heading for Bleak Falls Barrow.

**A/N: Hey y'all, hope you're enjoying. While I did start a new game (with this exact character, actually. Gotta love console commands), I am writing this entirely from memory, so if you see something wrong let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three - Bleak Falls Barrow Part One**

The start of the path up to the barrow was back Anise's Cabin. I started to climb, glad that I had foregone the heavy armor some of the people I had killed wore. While chain mail and robes weren't exactly comfortable, at least they didn't weigh a hundred pounds while I was climbing a hill. About halfway up was a small tower, with a few bandits hanging about. The one standing against a tree outside caught a lightning bolt in the chest before he knew what was happening, and the first to charge out was cut down with a single stroke from my sword. The last was killed when his friends battleaxe went flying through his chest thanks to a TK throw. Handle first.

Threat dealt with, I kept climbing the mountain, finally reaching the massive arches visible from Riverwood. Two more archers and a hammer wielder waited for me. Luckily, they clumped up and lightning fried them all. Then it was inside the ruin. Another axeman and an archer were standing around inside, as well as a couple of dead bandits. I used telekinesis to scoop up one of the dead men's handaxe, then sent it sweeping out of the shadows the cut deep into both of their necks. I kept heading deeper into the ruins, finally coming across another bandit. I sensed the danger in the room, and watched as he pulled a lever and dozens of darts shot from the walls, may impaling him and killing him where he stood.

After a few minutes waiting to ensure the darts were done firing, I stepped into the room. The stones above the door, as well as the one that had fallen to the floor, indicated the order to place the pillars along the left side of the room in. I did, and pulled the lever. I had a distinct feeling that these traps and puzzles were less to keep people out as they were to keep something in. Whatever it was, my sword and spells would be more than able to deal with it.

Soon enough, I ran into a couple of giant rats. For some reason, the word 'skeever' came to mind. They were easily killed with quick lightning bursts. Then I started running to spider webs. Massive ones, until finally I reached an archway completely blocked by webs. Someone on the other side called out random names, presumably the bandits I had killed on my in. A burst of lightning dissolved the webs, and I stepped into a rectangular chamber littered with webs and corpses. At the far side was another archway, this one filled with webs suspending a dark elf off the ground. In the middle of the chamber, another dark elf fought a massive spider, and it wasn't going well.

The dark elf was holding his shield arm at an awkward angle, obviously in pain. The sword clutched in his other hand was keeping the spider at bay for now, but based on the staggering movement he was probably also poisoned. That, or my dislike of heavy armor was even more justified than I realized. In any case, this must have been the dark elf from our cart. I couldn't tell because of the horned iron helm that covered his head and part of his face. I sighed, raised my hand, and hit the spider with a sustained burst of lightning, cooking it from the inside out. When it died, it rolled onto its back and its legs curled in like a closing fist.

I turned back to the dark elf from Helgen, and watched as he quaffed down a pair of potions. The poisons effect seemed to disappear, as he stood up straighter, and his broken arm straightened out quickly. It seemed one potion cured poison, and the other healed him. Interesting. He stepped towards me, sheathing his sword and extending his hand. "Thanks for the assist, friend," he said. "I thought that spider had me. Name's Nisath Redoran, of Solstheim, though I haven't been home in nearly fifty years."

Fifty years? That was interesting. The elf didn't appear that old, so his race must have exceptionally long life spans. Something told me I could trust this man. I would say it was the Force, but the Force didn't seem to exist here. I didn't think. I took the offered hand. "Darth Bellarum, Lord of the Sith," I said. "So, why are we here?"

Nisath shrugged. "I took a job for a shopkeeper in town. Some bandits stole something from him, and he wants it back. They ran here, so I followed. Speaking of which…" He rounded on the trapped dark elf. "Give me the claw."

"Well, see I would, but…" the trapped elf trailed off, rolling his head to indicate the webbing holding him in place.

"Ah, I can fix that!" I said brightly. Then I shoved my sword through his chest at the same time I fired a lightning burst into the webbing. I dismissed my blade and caught the body. A couple of minutes of rifling through the corpses' pockets, and I pulled out a claw that looked to be made of solid gold. I turned and tossed it to Nisath, who caught it and gave me a bemused look. "What?" I asked. "He was a bandit. No one will miss him."

"Oh, I would have done the same," Nisath said. "Most people just aren't that casual about coldblooded murder."

I smiled wolfishly. "I'm not most people."

Nisath calmly stared at me for a moment before answering. "Obviously. You were at Helgen weren't you?"

I nodded acquiescence. "I was."

"You went into the keep with the Stormcloak."

"I did."

"Hm. What do you plan to here in Skyrim?"

I wasn't sure how to answer at first, but then decided on the truth. "Rule," I said quietly.

A devilish grin equal to my own spread over the dark elf's face. "How interesting. I intend to do the same. A land split by civil war is ripe for a new leader. But that requires allies. Not to mention having someone as powerful as yourself could be useful for fighting the dragons that seem to be showing up. What say we work together on this?"

I decided to trust my gut on this one. "Lets. Now, are you going back to Riverwood to return that claw, or would you rather figure out what the source of the energy I can feel pulsing through this place is?"

The elf merely smiled. "After you, Darth."

**A/N: That's right, the Sith Lord is making friends with the Dragonborn. This should be fun to write.**


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